Queries
by Ariana Deralte
Summary: In which Crowley asks a lot of questions, some of which even have answers.
1. Query

Crowley always thought to himself that he didn't "Fall", especially not with a capital F, but Sauntered Vaguely Downwards. Hung out with the wrong crowd. Asked too many of the wrong questions. Or possibly just asked questions in general; not very angelic to question anything. And it was certainly not something he had stopped doing because he was a demon. He was pretty sure that those questions had gotten him assigned topside. You ask someone one too many times why a cute chameleon represents their true self and end up on Earth for the next 5000 years.

Not that that stopped the questions. He asked them to Aziraphale every time they met. And while he often got the Angel Party line in verbal response, he was fascinated by how very much Aziraphale didn't agree with the things he said. Other angels, and demons for that matter, were 100% firm in their convictions on, well, everything. Aziraphale didn't do more than pause for a second when all the children in Noah's vicinity took an unexpected journey (some would say in the blink of an eye) to some very tall mountains to the southeast of them. In fact, he stopped by, during and after the Flood to counteract Crowley's "evil" influence on the children. Crowley's not sure if either side would be happy with the fiercely independent, always questioning, yet also very faithful in their beliefs people they raised*. Both of them mutually agree to leave it out of their reports.

*Millennia later, despite them not having anything to do with it, Adam is largely the same.

Crowley also continues to question God. He's not sure when he started up again after the shock of the F- Vaguely Sauntering Downwards wore off. But Aziraphale isn't always there and it's not like She responded to his questions up in heaven anyway. Sometimes they were very serious like, "why is there so much suffering?" and "why are humans so much better at torture than demons?" and sometimes they were the flippant questions that made him unwelcome in hell and earned him those hidden amused looks of Aziraphale's that he liked to draw out. Like, what was up with dolphins? They were bastards, but because they were cute and funny, humans loved them (Crowley liked them too, for totally opposite reasons). And like, humans invented writing so he invented bureaucracy to torment them. But instead, both Heaven and Hell jumped on the bandwagon faster than the beany baby craze. Surely, if they were opposing sides, they couldn't both use bureaucracy?

(He is pretty sure he spent a year drunk on rice wine complaining about this to Aziraphale during China's Warring States period, but since Aziraphale had just discovered the Chinese classics, he's also pretty sure that Aziraphale didn't hear a word he said.)

Asking questions is Crowley's thing, even though there are some that he will never, ever voice out loud. Questions like, "when did it become more important to make my angel smile than to tempt a few humans into darkness?" and "at what precise moment did Aziraphale decide to add worrying about Crowley's punishment to his list of worries about heaven and hell, and could Crowley do whatever he did again to cause that reaction?"

Crowley isn't afraid of any questions, but he is sometimes afraid of answers. He fears that one day the answer will be, "never talk to me again," and "we need to stop." So he cowardly avoids any questions that might have those answers.

He often gets ordered to tempt the Israelites (or the Jews as they were coming to be called). They were God's chosen people after all. Though one question Crowley often asks is why God's chosen people are marked out for so much suffering? This is, unsurprisingly, a question the Jews ask too. In fact, it seems to be part of their traditions to ask an awful lot of questions of God as Crowley finds out when he ends up in a twelve hour debate with a few rabbis in Persia.

One of the rabbi feasts them afterwards, though Crowley is more interested in the wine. Rabbi M- something or other, approaches him after quite a few jars of wine have passed.

"I did not realize demons could be Jewish."

Crowley hadn't exactly been hiding his eyes, and around hour six of the debate may have forgotten entirely to tone them down for human consumption, so the demon part is hardly a surprise, but, "I'm not Jewish."

The rabbi places a comradely hand on his shoulder. "Ah, but it is very Jewish to ask questions, especially those that have no answers. How long have you been asking these questions?"

_Forever. Since I can remember. _He swallows those words down like the serpent he is. The rabbi just squeezes his shoulder, and smiles. Abruptly Crowley is enraged – at the Jews, at God, at himself.

He decides that the wine really isn't up to his stands (and Aziraphale would agree with him, so there!), and it is time for him to leave. Macedonia will be crazy in a century or two and he wouldn't want to miss it. He resolves to only do his job around the Jews, and otherwise stay far away.

However, he can't stay mad at them because they enshrine a man's comeuppance complete with silly hat into their religion and eat said hat in mockery every year – that is the kind of pettiness Crowley can get behind.


	2. Temptation

Joshua was someone who spent his time arguing with rabbis for fun. In retrospect, Crowley didn't stand a chance.

She found him sitting on a ledge in the desert, dusty and brown skinned. "You know, you can just turn these stones into bread or something? You don't have to starve, and you're too skinny as it is," Crowley said hypocritically. She had been told that one too many times by well-meaning humans over the years.

"I am sustained by the word of God."

"Yeah, but does it taste good?"

At this, the kid finally looked troubled. "It does not, but it is what God has given me."

Crowley sat down on the ledge next to the kid. They had a spectacular view of the desert. "You know, not that anyone has told me anything, but I know humans, and this whole messiah business is not going to end well. And let's be clear, it's not going to end well for you in particular."

Joshua smiled at her. "I know. But if I don't do it, who will?"

Crowley got up and began pacing the ledge. She threw her hands up in the air. "Humans will! Granted, some of them are right evil bastards, but there's also a bunch who are nice, self-sacrificing idiots! There's no reason it has to be you." She'd been ordered to tempt him, but she also genuinely wanted to spare this kid from whatever She had in store for him. God was not kind to those she loved or those who loved her.*

*Crowley had only heard about Job well after it happened, but she's glad she was far away from Aziraphale when she did since her railing at God for the death of Job's family – his kids! – would have had her angel not speaking to her for several hundred years.

There's a hand on her arm. Joshua was in front of her. "Sister, there is no one else in heaven or hell who will do this. I do this so they will understand."

"There are other ways to make a point," said Crowley softly. Persuasively. "Let me show you the world. There are so many things you could do to help them."

Joshua looks resigned. "All right."

Crowley doesn't actually transport them anywhere, but suddenly the world around them changes. They're in a crowded marketplace in the Han Empire. At a temple in the Amazonian rainforest. Standing atop the Great Pyramid in Egypt. At a slaver's market at a port in Cyprus. Watching a Germanic tribe feast in honor of the good harvest. In an early Buddhist temple. The places blur together, and Crowley doesn't just stick to the nice places. She shows the human sacrifices, the war, the slaves, the death because if there's anything she knows about temptation, it's that the key to a successful temptation is to give them what they want. And Joshua, the poor, stupid yet clever kid, wants to help people.

Eventually Joshua closes his eyes against the onslaught of images, a look of pain on his face. Crowley stops. They are back on the ledge in the desert and the sun is setting.

Joshua opens his eyes and looks into Crowley's golden ones. "If I were to take over and end all those horrible and wonderful things* you showed me, I could put a stop to it all. But I wouldn't be saving them, I'd be dooming them to an eternity of doing my will. And dooming myself as their keeper as well. Instead, I will show them – and Heaven and Hell – what they can do. It will be up to them." He was smiling, and Crowley was left with the uncomfortable feeling that this kid was much wiser than her.

*Because, let's be fair, many of those wonderful things were built on the backs of horrible things.

"Should have known you'd be too good and nice to go through with it," Crowley muttered, avoiding Joshua's knowing eyes. She was thinking of a different time on the wall of Eden when another being had been too nice and how the consequences of that were still echoing through eternity.

"Well, I'll be off then." There was no way she'd wish the kid well, but she miracled up some bread and olives next to his water skin for him to find once she was gone. Too skinny and too clever by half that kid.

'You're really going to let him go through with this?' she prayed to God. She received her answer several years later, and has been angry and upset about it ever since.


End file.
